


By The Chimney With Care

by SunriseRose1023



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Family, Pre-Series, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 02:11:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5649853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunriseRose1023/pseuds/SunriseRose1023
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchester family tries to start a new Christmas tradition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By The Chimney With Care

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt from Tumblr: "stocking."

_“’Twas the night before Christmas,_  
 _And all through the house,_  
 _Not a creature was stirring,_  
 _Not even a mouse._  
 _The stockings were hung_  
 _By the chimney with care—“_   
“Mama, what’s a chimney?”

Mary pursed her lips as she looked down at the little boy in her arms, green eyes identical to hers looking up at her.

“You know that big brick thing on the side of the house? Where the smoke comes out if Daddy makes a fire in the fireplace?”

Dean nodded his head, and Mary tapped him on the nose.

“That’s a chimney.”  
“Oh, okay.”

John smiled to himself, then cleared his throat.

_“The stockings were hung_  
 _By the chimney with care,_  
 _In hopes that Saint Nicholas Soon would be there.”_   
“And Saint Nicholas is Santa Claus, right?”

Mary smiled as she ruffled his hair.

“That’s right.”

She looked over to John, who shook his head before he went back to reading.

“ _The children were nestled_  
 _All snug in their beds,_  
 _While visions of sugarplums—“_  
“What’s a sugarplum?”

John let out a breath and Mary smiled at him, looking down at their son.

“I think it’s a … a fruit?”  
“Fruit?”

Dean wrinkled his nose.

“I thought it was candy.”  
“Honey, do you remember what we talked about? How we said we were going to sit here quietly and listen to Daddy read?”

Dean nodded, but turned to look at Mary.

“But I can’t just listen when I don’t know what the words mean!”

John shook his head, letting out a laugh.

“I told you this could wait until he was older.”  
“I’m almost four!”

Mary leaned down, kissing the top of his blonde head.

“My big boy.”

Dean was quiet for a moment, content in his mother’s embrace, before he leaned back, looking up at her again.

“Did you hang our stockings by the chimney with care?”

Mary let out a laugh.

“I did.”

She looked over to John, who smiled as he stretched an arm out over the back of the couch, fingers reaching up to toy with her hair. He cleared his throat, glancing over at his son.

“You know, Deano… Next year we’ll have another stocking to hang up there.”

Dean nodded.

“For my brother.”

Mary rolled her eyes.

“Or sister, honey.”

Dean wrinkled his nose again, shaking his head.

“No, it’s got to be a brother. Girls are yucky.”

Mary looked over to John, who was coughing into his hand to hide his laughter. She ruffled Dean’s hair again.

“I’m a girl, you know.”  
“But you’re not yucky, Mama. You’re a different girl. You and Miss Carla.”

Miss Carla was Dean’s preschool teacher, and he was absolutely infatuated with her. Mary sighed, wrapping her arms around him just a little tighter, speaking softly.

“You know, if this baby does turn out to be a girl, she’s going to need her big brother to take care of her.”

Dean nodded.

“I’ll take care of it, but it won’t be a girl. I’m going to have a brother.”

Mary lifted her eyes to the ceiling, shaking her head.

“There’s no hope for me, is there?”

John leaned over, kissing her on the cheek.

“Sorry, Mare. Looks like all we’re good at is making boys.”

She shook her head, a loving smile on her face. She reached behind Dean and patted her belly, which, at four months along, was just now starting to show. She hadn’t been able to feel the baby move yet, but she had hopes it would happen soon. Dean twisted in her lap to see Mary with her hand resting over her belly, and his little face took on a look of concentration. John whispered under his breath.

“Uh oh.”   
“Mama?”

Mary swallowed, glancing down at Dean.

“Yeah, sweetie?”  
“The baby’s in your belly, right?”

Mary nodded.

“How did it get in there?”

Mary’s eyes widened, and she looked to John, who was staring back at her with a terrified expression on his face. She mouthed at him to go back to the book, and he flipped it open, reaching to ruffle Dean’s hair himself.

“Hey, buddy. How ‘bout we finish this story? We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.”  
“Okay, Daddy.”

Mary loved the way Dean looked at John with such adoration, and she let out a quiet sigh of relief when John cleared his throat, picking up where he left off.

_“The children were nestled_  
 _All snug in their beds,_  
 _While visions of sugarplums_  
 _Danced in their heads._  
 _Mama in her kerchief and I—“_   
“What’s a kerchief?”


End file.
